EMI to Allow Live Concert Broadcasts in Movie Theaters for Those Too Lazy to Camp Out in Line for Tickets or Make Up Egregious Lies About Family Members Dying in Certain Wars

After the shame of having its ass bought out by private equity firm Terra Firma, EMI surveyed the wreckage and realized, "Hey! I still own the rights to these here Spice Girls and Coldplay, et al... let's whore them out a little more and see what they can do. Those dang scalpers won't know WHAT hit ‘em!" In this case, fans of said bands will be able to totally bypass that pesky live experience for a real-time streaming broadcast of the concert they want to see in movie theaters owned by Terra Firma, which holds the rights to Odeon/UCI, the largest movie theater conglomerate outside of North America. For all of you businessy types, this makes the bucks for EMI as such: "The format would be used to launch new albums, with fans, media and music executives invited to the screenings and given the option of picking up the CD or film of the concert on their way out of the cinema." Thanks, Mr. EMI Suit Man! You're so kind.

Now, I understand if you were all kinds of pissed that you couldn't seen Led Zeppelin's reunion show in London because, well, you didn't feel like going to London for one concert. That's legit. But broadcasting concerts live in the SAME city these acts are touring? Really? Could someone please help me understand the purpose behind physically standing up, walking out of your house, and going somewhere ELSE to sit on your tush and watch a concert? It's like going to a McDonald's drive-thru and going to Burger King to eat your Quarter Pounder. And I guarantee both practices will do nothing to enhance your cultural experience. Just sayin'.

Jens Lekman to Tour, Rocky Dennis Not to Tour, or: In 30 Years, I Will Wear Jumpers and Comfortable Shoes after Going to See Movies Featuring Diane Keaton

Dear Jens Baby Sweetheart,

Things could always be worse.

Like, for instance, rather than your likely frustration with the public thinking your name was “Rocky Dennis,” (due to confusion over the Mask-inspired song title “Rocky Dennis’ Goodbye Song to the Blind Girl” back in the earlier ‘00s), you could have, say, had your little sister Sarah agree with you when you mentioned that you thought in your old age you would look like your hefty, poofy-haired high school teacher of the past.

Crying shame.

Eating my heart out, aiming for 100 extra lbs, old and new tourdates:

[Photo: Kristin Lidell]

Henry Rollins Announces Tour, But Only The Confirmed Cities (Kidding)

I could give you the blabber on Rollins’ past and future endeavors (Black Flag, his TV show, other things I have no idea about), but that’s all better served by his website, 21361.com. Instead, what I want to talk about is Wrong Turn 2: Dead End, the straight-to-video horror sequel released this year starring Henry as retired Marine colonel Dale Murphy. At first look, the film has all the makings of a bland, formulaic, shock-gore throwaway flick. But with Henry Rollins in the credits, you might wonder if the trunk-necked pontificator is able to save the sequel from its seemingly preordained bargain-bin destiny.

While the film’s thoroughly disfigured inbred hillbillies -- its own West Virginia-inspired Texas Chain Sawers -- hit a bit harder than Black Flag fans circa 1984, unfortunately no amount of intestine splatter, no number of mutant makeout sessions, nor even an electronic music-hating 46-year-old could make the film any closer to being watchable. TMT wholeheartedly backs the advice of YouTube user pecker213323, who recently commented on the film’s trailer by asking, "are there any boobies in this? I'm not gonna bother watching this shitty movie unless a fine ass chick gets naked. (sic)" That would be a "don’t even bother," Mr. Pecker.

With that out of the way, I imagine this Rollins tour, Provoked: An Evening of Quintessentially American Opinionated Editorializing and Storytelling, will be essentially the same spoken word act he’s been doing for decades. You know what you’re getting into: a opinionated, rambling dude with a butt chin and a neck leathery enough to sharpen razors on.


Just When They Were About To Be Exploited, Bonde do Role Loses Marina Ribatski

Maybe this is for the best. With Rolling Stone and Pitchfork dedicating quite a bit of press to the favela stars, it could have only been a matter of time before Bonde do Role were forced to stop breaking U.S. copyright laws and stop singing about licking people's assholes. I believe very strongly that you should not stop liking a band simply because they begin to attract a wider audience, but my principles could have been tested if Bonde do Role had played the VMAs. “It is better to burn out,” they say, “than it is to record an album produced by Timbaland.”

Their recent press release explains that the band, now consisting only of D'eyrot and DJ Gorky, would be continuing under the name Bonde do Role and recruiting a new member. Perhaps they’ll actually get a guitarist, as they’ve mentioned in the past (I recommend going for Buckethead). As for Marina, she’s already made a solo appearance on the latest Go! Team album, so perhaps she can start a solo shouting career. The release also says that they are all still friends, so I wish them all the best, although I’m fairly sure that means nothing to them.

Crystal Castles Set to Bring Their Magical Blend of Unicorns and Shrieking to a Venue Near You

Well, I've been home for the holidays for a few weeks now, dealing with the transition from noisy, crowded London to the eerily quiet, suburban strip mall haven where I was born and raised. I'm unemployed and broke, but I have access to ‘free’ wireless from my parents' neighbor's houses and a large stash of vegetarian TV dinners! It has been a long and cold three weeks, and as the needles begin to drop from the Christmas tree and the holiday cookies start to disappear, my interest in fairly painful, but also pretty damn spectacular scream-y music is totally SKYROCKETING.

As a result, I have been listening to the tracks on Crystal Castles' MySpace page almost obsessively. (Okay, there's no "almost" to it, just a whole lot of "obsessively.") It's all Atari noises, aggressive dance beats, and screaming. And it's the perfect soundtrack to that "Yes, I have an MA, but what I really want to do is work at your chain coffee shop!" post-holiday malaise! Of course, there is also the fact that I truly like magical things like unicorns and She-Ra, and therefore if you name your band "Crystal Castles," I am probably going to be super into your music.

The Toronto duo is embarking on a six-week tour that will serve as a taster for their upcoming full-length, set to be released March 18, 2008 on Last Gang Records. The band has toured extensively in Japan, Australia, Europe, and the UK over the past year. On this upcoming North American tour, the LA awesomeness that is HEALTH will open all dates.

A Kiss on the Hand Might Be Quite Continental, But Silje Nes Is a Girl’s (and Boy’s) Best Friend

Everybody should have a happy place or a tranquil spot to retreat to whenever life throws a curve ball. If an idyllic cottage on the lake isn’t at your disposal, you could always “pull a Vashti" and leave for the highlands and sidelands of Scotland and Ireland like Ms. Bunyan did at the onset of the 1970s after her solo career failed to materialize the way everybody expected. Note: one can suppose that if Bunyan had a particular taste for fur rugs and [Mars Bars like another of Andrew Loog Oldham’s ingénues, she might have made a bigger splash, but that's another speculative story for another speculative time.]

One of Bunyan’s labelmates at FatCat is Norwegian artist Silje Nes, who creates similarly spectacular intimate “feel” music, proving handily that while guys may have the wussy mall-rock market cornered, the gals just cannot be beat at crafting highly integrated, emotive, personal, inviting, heartbreaking, berserk... well, you get the picture. Then there is Nes' pitch witchery; she makes someone like Hope Sandoval sound like a mongrel dog with a throat box and a bad case of crotch rot. She cannot be heard without envisioning an angel astride a gossamer-winged unicorn swooshing around near a silk-tasseled rainbow. Yes, that good.

Nes’ debut album, Ames Room, was written and recorded in spontaneous creative bursts using a healthy host of instruments, electronics, and found sounds. It is, frankly, peerlessly beautiful. Those with a particular penchant for imported models can pick up the UK/European album now, but those who prefer to build anticipation and wait for such things in a timely manner can realize their delay-engrossed goals on February 26 in North America.

“…an angel astride a gossamer-winged unicorn swooshing around near a silk-tasseled rainbow”? What the hell? One week in, and it looks like I have already blown my resolution to actually make some sense this year!.

1. Over All
2. Drown
3. Shapes, Electric
4. Ames Room
5. Giant Disguise
6. Dizzy Street
7. Long Shadows Left Behind
8. Bright Night Morning
9. Recurring Dream
10. Searching, White
11. Magnetic Moments of Spinning Objects
12. Melt
13. Escape
14. No Bird Can